Halloween
by Person4
Summary: Harry was happy when his second daughter told him that she wanted to be something nice as her first Halloween costume, instead of one of the monsters of the season.  He had no idea just what he was in for.


When Harry took her to pick out her first Halloween costume and she told him, very seriously, that she wanted to dress up as 'something nice' he heaved a mental sigh of relief. He'd come to love his new little girl exactly as much as the one that he'd lost in getting her, but she did take a turn for the... _odd_, from time to time. If he gave her a box of crayons and a piece of paper she was as likely to run up to him a little while later with a picture of a dismembered stick figure that used every shade of red in the box as she was to give him one of a normal boxy house or squiggle-topped tree. If she sat down at the breakfast table eager to tell him about a funny dream she had it would almost certainly run along the lines of '...then after the bandaged doggy chewed off my foot it licked my toes, an' it still tickled _so much_!'

And if she was put in front of a display full of costumes and told to pick whichever one she wanted, he wouldn't have been surprised if she'd dug through the rack and managed to find the one outfit in the bunch that would give any other little kid nightmares.

He'd come to accept that part of her as well, though he'd never claim that he was _happy_ with it. Honestly, they were both incredibly lucky if the only thing which remained inside of her of the shattered little girl who'd passed her on to him was an occasional turn towards the macabre that had made itself known less and less as the years went by. But it had been months since the last time he'd seen hints of it, and he'd been a little worried that the holiday would make it come back with a vengeance, and was glad to know that it looked like it would stay sleeping within her instead.

He steered her towards the frilly princess gowns, the fuzzy animal suits, the clowns and jesters gear in their search for something nice, and eventually she found a little nurse's uniform that she liked. The choice surprised him a little-she threw a panicky fit every time he even drove by the local hospital-but he bought it for her and didn't think anything of it when she asked him to add a box of costume makeup to their basket. He hadn't kept any of his wife's makeup after she died, so she'd need something if she wanted to decorate her face for the night.

She went through the contents of the makeup kit on the drive home, Harry keeping a close eye on her in brief snatches away from the road to make sure that she didn't end up smearing any of it around the car. She shifted through most of it quickly, peering at each of the palettes of color and greasesticks briefly then moving on to the next once she'd seen the color, but she paused on a package full of fake blood capsules with a curious look on her face.

"Here, honey, I'll show you," he said, holding out his hand for her to give him a capsule. He popped it straight into his mouth and bit down, his mouth immediately filling with the overwhelming taste of artificial cherries that always made him think of cough medicine. He risked turning his head fully away from the road for just a moment, so she could get a good look at the syrupy 'blood' dripping down his chin, and in his best Dracula voice said, "_Bwah_, I vant to suck your blud!"

He expected that to win a laugh from her, but instead she just looked at him with solemn eyes, nodded once, and said "Okay," then started packing the makeup kit back up again.

He didn't think anything else of it for a few nights, until the actual day of Halloween arrived. He'd offered to help her get ready, but she'd shaken her head so hard that her hair flew around her face and pushed him out of her room, telling him, "No! I'm gonna make me nice!" Before she'd banished him completely he'd at least managed to convince her to get ready in the bathroom, so if she got greasepaint everywhere cleaning up would be a matter of wiping down tile instead of trying to clean her carpet. After that it was just a matter of waiting for his little nurse to come out to the living room.

When he finally did, his first impression was of redness. She obviously made good use of the blood capsules; there were red blotches and streaks all down the nurse's dress to its waist, and more smeared over the cap which came with it. Besides that he face and neck and hand were smeared over with red greasepaint, occasional shinier streaks in it showing where she'd added more of the capsule blood. Finishing off the whole outfit, she'd neatly topped the dress with a red cardigan he'd given her the winter before. "There wasn't enough blood goop so I had to use paint stuff too," she told him.

"Cheryl..." he said shakily. "Do you know who you're dressed as."

She beamed at him brightly and nodded her head. "Yup, I'm dressed as somebody nice! The nicest person who's not you!" For just a second her smile faltered and her forehead furrowed up as she added, "I don't remember when she's from though..." but it quickly came back, "...but I know I look like someone _real_ nice!"

He wasn't sure how he should even respond to that, but finally he just closed his eyes and rested his hand on her shoulder. "Yes. You look like someone really nice." 


End file.
